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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/22748566">The Haunted House</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/melign_thestars/pseuds/yourmajes-ty'>yourmajes-ty (melign_thestars)</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Camp Camp (Web Series)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Camp Camp - Freeform, Camper David (Camp Camp), Dead Jasper (Camp Camp), Haunted Houses, M/M, i wont add some characters to the tag yet bc they havent been introduced, or not necessarily Camper but yknow, uhhh what would be the tag for my cult counterpart for jasper????</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-02-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-03-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-04-28 10:00:17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,194</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/22748566</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/melign_thestars/pseuds/yourmajes-ty</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>[title in the working]<br/>Davey and his mother have to move into a new neighborhood, in a house that's rumored to be haunted by the ghost of a boy that died before. Though Davey is skeptical, he starts to think that it's true.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>David/Jasper (Camp Camp)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>15</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. One</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Hey there! This is a fic I've been working on! I have a small bit of it planned and I hope you enjoy this chapter!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“We’re here, Davey! What do you think?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Davey looked out the car window to see his new home. It was just a large house, but it looked a bit old and untidy. But his mother kept a smile plastered on her face, trying to keep her son positive. Her name was Mary, and she tried to see the best in things, and she tried to get others to do the same. But to Davey, pretending things were alright was pointless.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t like it. Why did we have to move?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Davey, I…” Mary sighed, looking down at Davey, then kneeling and putting her hands on his shoulders. “You know why, sweetie. I got a job here, and this house was cheap, and… I think this’ll be a good decision.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mary had reached in to give her son a hug, but Davey had pulled back a bit defensively. “Ma, no. I don’t like this. It’s dumb, I can’t believe we left home for… whatever this is!” Davey pointed to the house and pouted, then feeling guilty. He knew his mother was only trying her best, and he didn’t want to look at whatever sad expression she had on her face. Instead, he looked down at his feet, asking, “...where’s my bedroom?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It took a second for Mary to answer, trying to sound joyful still. “It’s upstairs in the attic, sweetheart. Be careful, I’ve told you about--”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, Ma. The rumors about a ghost. Whatever, they don’t exist. People are just dumb.” Saying this, Davey took out two boxes of his stuff to carry into the house.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Once Davey had taken all of his own boxes upstairs, he took a look around the attic. It was a large room, with most of its necessities already put in place days before: the bed was near one of the walls, with a desk on the opposite side of the room, a dresser near the entryway, all of it. He was glad that he or his mom had to do that work since lugging anything up that staircase was a troublesome task. His mother had hired some sort of moving team, she had said, since the place itself was so cheap. The reason for that, of course, being the ghosts.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When his mother had told him about those rumors, he had quickly dismissed them as bullshit. After all, ghosts didn’t exist. But that didn’t excuse the fact that there had been a murder there, almost twenty years before, along with almost twelve families who had lived in that house between those years, all of these families quickly leaving, none of them staying for more than a year.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>At least, that’s how the rumor went. Davey, however, wasn’t very convinced.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As Davey continued to organize the books on his shelf, he heard some sort of shuffling noise. At first, he ignored it, thinking maybe it was some stray mouse or rat, but it went on and on until finally, there was a loud noise of an empty box being knocked over. At this, Davey looked back quickly, seeing nobody else in the room. But what he saw was far more shocking.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>On the shelf right by his bed, Davey saw all his beanie babies, neatly organized by color, making something resembling a rainbow. In confusion, Davey looked around, trying to find the source of this organization, but there was no one else. Being a bit baffled by this, Davey started to give himself some sort of excuse: </span>
  <em>
    <span>Ma must’ve come up the stairs and did that. That’s totally possible!</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>And so Davey kept working, putting all his stuff in order until the afternoon turned to a late evening, where Mary walked up the creaky stairs to talk to her son.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright, Davey, is everything going alright?” She gave a smile to her son, who rolled his eyes in response. “Oh, it’ll get better--I promise, honey. Tomorrow is your first day of school, too, and so I think that talking to the other kids your age will make you feel better!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Davey gave another huff, not answering. Mary sighed and gave him a loose hug. “I’m… sorry we had to do this. But it’ll all be for the better, trust me, sweetie.” She kissed Davey’s forehead while getting back up and heading toward the stairway. “Get some sleep, now.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Though he wanted to disobey, Davey found himself yawning as Mary left. So instead of wanting to argue, he went to bed, snuggled in his blankets, and promptly fell asleep.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Two</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Davey heads to school and meets a fellow classmate of his.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>When Davey opened his eyes, he immediately groaned and kicked his covers off of himself, desperately wanting to go back to sleep. After many vain attempts to sleep through the morning, he got out of bed and started to get prepared for the day.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Once out of bed and dressed for the day, Davey made his way down the long, creaky staircase, his mother greeting him from the kitchen.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good morning, sweetheart!” She said, taking a batch of cinnamon rolls out of the oven. “I thought you might like something special for your first day!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Though the sweets his mother baked usually persuaded Davey to be happier, today he just grabbed one and continued pouting. Mary’s hopeful smile fell a bit when seeing how grumpy her son was, and she went to give him a hug as Davey put on his backpack.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“My dear,” she said, nearly picking him up, “have a great day at school, okay? I’m sure you’ll have plenty of friends.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Davey rolled his eyes, huffing once more before leaving the home to get to his bus stop. While still walking toward the spot, he spotted another boy, one with blonde hair put in a similar style as Davey’s. As Davey got close, the boy seemed to flinch and take a step back, readjusting his red glasses. Davey crossed his arms and gave a scowl in response.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What was that for?” he sneered. “God, I’m not gonna do anything to you, what’s wrong?” Perhaps in retrospect, this was not a good start to making new friends, but that didn’t cross Davey’s mind in his fit.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The other backed away once more, his pupils getting smaller as his hands were quickly stuffed in his pockets. “S...sorry, I… I didn’t m-mean to do that, I…” The boy coughed and shakily brought out a hand from his pocket for Davey to shake. “I… I’m Danny…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>If it weren’t for a huge tendency to stubbornness, Davey would have shaken the hand and said his name. But he was stubborn, and so he refused, turning up his nose. Danny looked like he could cry because of this, his face falling and his body shaking, but Danny still continued.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You m… must be Davey, my mother told me… your mother came to our house yesterday and gave us cookies, Mommy seemed to like them, I know I did…” His fingers drummed on his pant leg. “She's… she said that you live in that… </span>
  <em>
    <span>house…”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Something about the way he said the word ‘house’ was distasteful to Davey. What did that mean? “Yeah? What about it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Danny looked back at Davey with wide eyes, incredulous that Davey showed no timidness. “You… live in the haunted house, I… is it okay in there? Th-there’s not monsters, are there? Are you... Are you a monster?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Huffing and rolling his eyes in irritation, Davey saw the bus coming and ending the conversation with, “Yeah, of course I am. Fuck off before I punch you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As the conversation died, Davey went onto the bus and sat by himself. He didn’t look back at Danny, who seemed to be crying in fear as he walked on the bus and sat as far away from Davey as possible.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Three</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Davey meets other kids at his new school.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Heyo!! I hope you're all doing well! Hope you enjoy this chapter, I had fun writing it!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Walking off the bus and into the school was somewhat underwhelming. It was smaller than the place that Davey had gone to before, and this was not something that Davey took a liking to. There were only maybe twenty children in his grade, so they would have to, as his new teacher said in her welcoming, “stick close like glue.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rolling his eyes at the teacher’s welcome, Davey scribbled on the paper at his side of the table. Although he didn’t want it, he still somehow caught the attention of the girl sitting next to him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What are you drawing?” She looked at Davey, readjusting her round glasses while tilting her head to the side. “Can I see?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Davey was not wanting to show anyone anything. He shoved his drawing away from the girl with a large grunt as he continued. But the girl was persistent. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Please?” she asked, holding her hands out as if to grasp the drawing in her fingers. “I’ll be your best friend! Can I please see it? Or else I’ll tell Ms. Donovan that you’re--”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Gwendolyn!” scorned Ms. Donovan. “It would be best for you to pay attention. Much like your classmate Danny has.” With this, she pointed to a familiar kid: the one that Davey had seen at the bus stop. Danny looked up when his name was called, shriveling up and quickly nodding as he went back to what seemed to be taking notes. But why someone would be taking notes on the teacher’s introduction was unknown to Davey, and he wrinkled his nose at the thought.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The girl, now known as Gwendolyn, sighed, looking down at the table. “Sorry, Ms. Donovan. It won’t happen again.” She gave a whiny look toward Davey, as if to say it was his fault, then went back to doing her own thing. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Later that day, though, she came and sat next to Davey at lunch. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I didn’t catch your name,” she said. “Can you talk to me? My name is Gwen.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Davey stared at her for a moment before frowning once more and sticking out his tongue. Gwen stuck her tongue out at him in response. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, come on,” she groaned. “Why won’t you talk to me? God, everyone else here is scared of you because you live in that creepy house.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>This comment made Davey tilt his head. Why was it that scary? Finally, he said his first words to her: “It isn’t scary.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gwen didn’t say anything. However, she did tilt her head with a questioning look. Davey knew he would now have to explain himself, so he sighed while playing with his food. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“There’s no such thing as ghosts. They’re just shitty legends or something. There’s nothing in there.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Apparently he had said this louder than he intended, because it had caught the attention of two other kids in his class: one being the boy Davey shared a bus stop with--Danny-- and the other one standing next to Danny, giving Davey a scowl. While Danny seemed to want to keep moving away from Davey, the other child came close to Davey, her hair in neat, long braids and her piercing pale blue eyes. Gwen rolled her eyes as the girl came closer, as if knowing this was not going to end well.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Of course, the young girl’s comment only affirmed this. She scrunched her tiny nose up at Davey, finally saying, “You! You’re the one that was mean to Danny! You can’t do that!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Though this should have been seen as a sign of warning, Davey rolled his eyes. “What do you want? Who even are you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>This only infuriated the small girl further, clenching her fists and tugging at her long, blonde hair. “What do you mean, ‘who am I?’ I’m Jax, and you hurt Danny! You’re not allowed to do that!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Says who?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Says </span>
  <em>
    <span>me!” </span>
  </em>
  <span>The young kid stomped her feet, looking Davey dead in the eyes. “He is my </span>
  <em>
    <span>best </span>
  </em>
  <span>friend, and you made him sad! Do you </span>
  <em>
    <span>know </span>
  </em>
  <span>what happens to people who make Danny sad?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wh… what happens?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You get death!” Without hesitating, the child punched Davey in the gut as hard as she could. Despite wanting to not show weakness, Davey couldn’t help but lurch and clench his stomach in pain. The small child left immediately, holding Danny’s hand tightly in her own as she marched away, her large braids bouncing up and down behind her. Once she and Danny were gone, Gwen held out her hand to help Davey up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You hurt Danny?” Gwen said, pulling Davey up. “You literally made the worst mistake possible.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why?” Davey grunted, still holding his gut. “He’s obviously got no backbone and I don’t want him staring at me because of some shitty legend!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>At this, Gwen’s eyes looked left and right as she whispered, “Yeah, but then </span>
  <em>
    <span>she </span>
  </em>
  <span>will get to you. You really don’t want that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Davey rolled his eyes once more. “Who even is she? What’s her name?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gwen hesitated, pushing up her round glasses, before shrugging. “I’m actually not sure,” she admitted. “She’s this huge theater kid and she goes by the name Jackson. That’s her character or something.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And </span>
  <em>
    <span>why </span>
  </em>
  <span>should I be scared of a theater kid?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gwen rolled her eyes. “I still see you clutching your gut, you know. Come on, I think you might wanna get that checked out at the nurse’s office.”</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
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